Wellesley's Folklore and Production Ethic Cannot Mask Effects of Its Social Inertia

The Gray Book, Wellesley College's catalogue of rules, has gotten smaller since the 1930's. A few rules have been relaxed, but the Book gets all it can from the ones that are left. For example:

On cheating: "Use of other people's ideas, whether published or written, whether those of scholar or fellow student, in research papers, creative writing, laboratory or field trip reports, without proper documentation is either reprehensively careless or dishonest."

On driving: Until this term, students could have cars on campus only after spring vacation of senior year. Now all seniors are allowed to own cars and there is some chance that juniors will even be extended the same privilege next year.

On walking: "In order to preserve the beauty of the college grounds and adjacent properties, members of the college community are requested to walk on paths, not on the grass especially in the spring, and are not permitted to gather flowers or branches."

On sunbathing: "Sunbathing is permitted only on the sundeck of the Recreation Building and in places designated by the Director of Residence. Sunbathing clothes may be worn only in these places."

On drinking: "Neither students nor their guests are permitted to have alcoholic beverages anywhere on the campus." It is said that evidence of alcohol in rooms is sufficient grounds for expulsion.

The problem created by Wellesley's social inertia is more acute today because most of the Wellesley freshmen are coming from high schools which promoted complete social equality of boys and girls. The popular, "well-rounded" high school graduate may be shocked when she arrives at Wellesley. Her favorite relationships have probably been those with boys and she is used to governing her behavior by the expected male reaction. When she gets to Wellesley, she is knocked off base. A senior who is a house president and a junior Phi Beta Kappa describes the experience: "I liked girls, but I was always more comfortable around boys. It was hard to get used to making friends with girls. Probably most girls don't know what it's like until they get here. There's such an artificial atmosphere, but you get used to it after awhile. It helps to get away to the city a lot."

The Syndromes

This tension, which comes from the contrast between outside progress and Wellesley's inertia, produces certain identifiable syndromes in the academic and the social side of the college.

One could be called the "production ethic." Sixty-one per cent of the girls who answered the questionnaire spend four or more hours a day on homework, and less than two per cent spend as little as two hours a day studying. Seventy-three per cent reported that they kept up in their assignments as opposed to cramming for the exams. The average grade for the group is between a C-plus and B-minus.

Many aspects of Wellesley's educational policy have been reformed rapidly. For example, in 1932 there were only a dozen seniors engaged in independent work in their major field, while today there are close to six times that number in the honors program alone.

But there are a few aspects of the academic policy at Wellesley which tend to denigrate the college's otherwise remarkable achievements in this sphere. They are the manifestations of three factors: the production ethic, the slowness to liberalize the college, the lack of endowment available to women's colleges generally (although for a women's college, Wellesley is well-endowed).

First is the practice of issuing daily reading assignments. For many of the large lecture classes a certain number of pages is assigned for each session, forcing a daily work-load and putting more pressure on the student by taking the initiative to study out of her hands.

More Males

Second, at least three-quarters of the students polled would prefer to have more male teachers. Although this sounds like a minor point, it would undoubtedly make the classes much more interesting and lead to a more natural atmosphere.

Finally there is the matter of required curriculum. Out of a total of 40 units, the Wellesley girl has 18 stipulated for her as general requirements before she even considers the courses necessary for her major. These include a two-term course on selected portions of the Bible in the sophomore year and four one-term courses from a category which is composed of astronomy, biology, chemistry, geology, mathematics, physics, and the history of science.

One social concern that has emerged out of Wellesley's inability to evolve smoothly is an unsatisfactory system of advisors, especially for freshmen. The advice is there, but not from the right sources. A sophomore recalls, "Last semester there was nobody here even close to my own age who could help explain things to me." An administrator, on the other hand, explains that there is a full list of advisors available to students: "At various times before reaching decisions she may need counsel or may wish to talk freely with an older person about her academic or personal life. At such times she can turn to her dean who keeps in touch with her academic progress and her personal welfare, to her instructors including the ordained ministers in the department of Biblical history, to the resident head of her house, or to the college physicians and psychiatrists."

How close can a class dean be to 840 students? How many students talk personal problems over with professors? The only real personal advisor the Wellesley student has is the House Mother. Each dorm has one House Mother, who is usually an older single or widowed woman living by herself. How much help can she be? A common obstacle to freshmen adjustment is that almost half of the girls entering Wellesley are involved in a relationship with a boy "from home." No matter how well-meaning the House Mother, age is crucial in this case.

The tension caused by the college's ambivalence toward progress is eased, apparently, by an incredible catalogue of traditions. The folklore has been a popular and easy way of bringing the past into the present. It helps produce class loyalty and make acclimation an easier process. There is a song before every evening meal, usually in three or four part harmony. There are six society houses--like the final clubs but non-exclusive--to give juniors and seniors a chance to get away from the dorm and to cook. Once a month every House has a birthday dinner to celebrate every member's birthday during that month. Freshmen wear beanies during the first days of classes. Tree Day officially establishes the Class and its song; it used to be insured by Lloyd's of London against rain. The classes march behind their banners and sing their songs on the chapel steps for Step Singing. Wellesley seniors roll large wooden hoops at graduation that have been passed down from class to class for fifty years or more. There is sophomore Fathers' Day, when the fathers attend classes and give skits in the dorm. Tuesday is faculty night. Wednesday night is tea. Three times around the Wellesley lake with a boy and he will marry his date. And then there are the Junior Shows.

As charming as old Wellesley traditions may be, they are obviously no longer enough to reconcile the need for reform and liberalization with the college's reactionary grip on the old ideas of women's education. Ye olde residential college with rolling green hills and dimpled girls singing merrily while they learn a special code of living is not practicable today. What's more, an increasing number of girls don't even want it that way. According to the Gray Book, the Wellesley girl "accepts responsibility to and for herself; she accepts responsibility to and for herself; she accepts responsibility to and for others; and finally she accepts a larger, public responsibility to and for the system."

Wellesley girls no longer stand solidly behind the Wellesley system. They see a clear difference between Wellesley girls and Radcliffe girls and between Harvard and other Ivy League schools. Harvard and Radcliffe have evolved toward more individual liberty and less group identification in the way that Wellesley has not.

Harvard evokes a mixed reaction from the Wellesley girls. The questionnaire drew such descriptions as "stuffy phonies, pompous, self-centered, neurotic, and holier-than-thou," although a good three-quarters of the girls prefer dating boys from Harvard than any other school. Despite these unkindnesses, Wellesley girls did have some more respectful things to say about Harvard: "More intelligent, less standard preppy, more urban, individualistic, sophisticated, more confidence."

One Wellesley girl said, "I've never met a Cliffie." The rest of the 140 set about to describe the differences between the two schools and came up with a neat schematization of the role of woman in society. Radcliffe: "More aware of the outside world, freer spirits, more intense intellectual curiosity, introverted, egotistical, less feminine, less wholesome, not as refined, more independent, more bohemian and liberal, more spontaneous, less social, longer hair, more unorthodox." Wellesley: "More sickeningly wholesome, more socially conscious, more conscious of being women, different life-goals, less intellectual, more normal, less independent."

The trend is toward Radcliffe and away from Wellesley. It is not a question of which direction, but only of how long it will take to get there. (Almost half of the girls who filled out the questionnaire said that if they had not attended Wellesley, they would have chosen Radcliffe.) Wellesley has a new president this year, Ruth M. Adams. She was a head resident at Radcliffe from 1943 to 1945, and a teaching fellow and tutor at Harvard from 1944 to 1946. Wellesley should be there soon.A Grace Note at Dinner